


Wonderful Things

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The misadventures of Tim Drake, archeologist/adventurer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bart

**Author's Note:**

> More of [my terrible ideas](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/24009257433/horrible-au-idea) given form.

Tim meets Bart Allen in an open air market in Greece. Or, that is to say he catches him trying to pick his pocket, but Tim's from Gotham, and Bart is a very, very bad pickpocket.

"It's a learning experience," Bart says later, after the brief chase through the market and surrounding streets and alleys, after the yelling and Bart's...Bartness. Bart's smile is bright, almost blindingly so, teeth gleaming in his dirt-smudged face. He looks like an urchin, like the kids lining the edge of the market, sticking to the shadows. "My - Someone told me it's good to have them, so." Bart shrugs. "I'm learning."

"You clearly aren't," Tim says, impressed in spite of himself at the amount of food Bart can put away. Tim's treat, and he still doesn't know _why_ , exactly, just that Bart's mouth is just as fast as his feet and now here they are, sitting at an outside cafe and having lunch.

Bart laughs, open and free, and Tim knows he doesn't belong here, isn't from here, but at the same time, it suits him. Feels right. “Well," Bart says, leaning closer, speaking low enough that Tim has to lean in to hear him. "I'm still learning, aren't I?"

Tim rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. Looks at Bart, someone who shouldn't be here (but it doesn't feel wrong that he is, and Tim doesn't know how to reconcile that in his mind), someone who will end up in jail (or worse) if he's not careful (he isn't). "You need a new teacher, then." 

Bart eyes him thoughtfully. "Is that an offer?"

Tim blinks, nonplussed. He hadn't meant it as such, but. He likes Bart, his energy and enthusiasm. His obvious joy at simply being alive. And. Bart will end up in trouble if he keeps this up. It was sheer luck (or perhaps not) that he'd picked Tim as his target that afternoon in the market. And. Tim's from Gotham, yes, but he's learned so much more than she could ever hope to teach him on his travels. His parents weren't always the most attentive, especially when his father was involved in a dig, and Tim had met the most interesting people.

"Bart - "

"I'm going to keep doing this either way," Bart says, smirking at Tim like he knows he has him, knows Tim can't refuse. "You'd probably sleep better if I knew what I was doing.” 

And, oh, Tim cannot believe the nerve of him. (He can, though, and for some reason it isn't as aggravating as it should be.)

"Nice," Tim says. 

Bart shrugs again, unrepentant. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

Tim looks away, watches people walking past their table, talking, laughing. Looks back to Bart who is watching him with a intent look on his face. Bart, who shouldn't be here, but for some reason is. Bart who is surprisingly fast and smart in so many ways (and stupid in just as many). Bart who is around his age and not at all put off by him (Tim is aware of effect he has on people). 

"Fine," he says, wondering where his common sense disappeared to. "But you do everything I tell you, when I tell you."

Bart's face lights up - why is Tim going to teach him to be a criminal again? - and reaches over the table to take Tim's hand in his, shaking it with every bit of his enthusiasm. "Deal!"

Tim laughs, at Bart's excitement, his own blatant stupidity, whatever. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" he asks, but something tells him he won't. (Much.)


	2. Conner Kent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim's examining another exhibit - Pre-Columbian pottery - and turns to see a dark haired man looking at him. He looks oddly familiar, and it isn't until the man reaches up to straighten his glasses- nervous habit - that Tim realizes why. Clark shares the same habit, and now that Tim knows to look for it, he can see certain other resemblances. Still.

Tim meets Conner Kent during a museum event. Several of the pieces he'd found on an earlier dig are on display, and Dick had wanted him on hand for the event. Tim had tried to get out of it, but it had been Dick, and there's really no way he can way no to him.

"Excuse me?" 

Tim's examining another exhibit - Pre-Columbian pottery - and turns to see a dark haired man looking at him. He looks oddly familiar, and it isn't until the man reaches up to straighten his glasses- nervous habit - that Tim realizes why. Clark shares the same habit, and now that Tim knows to look for it, he can see certain other resemblances. Still.

"Do I know you?" Tim uses his pleasantly baffled expression that he learned from Bruce, that serves him well at social events Tim would rather avoid altogether.

The man smiles. "Ah, no. Not officially." He stares at Tim, a slight frown on his face. "You are Tim Drake, right?"

Tim nods. "And you are?"

"Oh! Oh, I'm Conner Kent, I'm sort of working for the _Daily Planet_." Conner smiles, embarrassed, cheeks flushing red as he holds out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Bemused, Tim shakes his hand. "How do you 'sort of' work for one of Metropolis' major newspapers, if you don't mind my asking?"

Conner grimaces. "Oh, uh. My. He's kind of my dad, works there, and sometimes they need," Conner waves a hand at the various exhibits. "Er. Articles."

Tim raises an eyebrow at that. "Articles." 

Tim knows the Drake name isn't exactly, how to put it, well-liked, in archeological circles. There are differing opinions, of course, those that see Tim's family as little better than grave robbers, and those who appreciate the work Tim's father and he have done. 

Tim has noticed that in general, journalists don't tend to represent them in the best light. So far Conner hasn't done anything to indicate he's interested in dragging the Drake name down further, although that doesn't really mean anything. The fact that Conner is related to Clark doesn't make him an ally, or a friend, just someone to keep an eye on. (It's only paranoia if they're not out to get you, after all.)

Conner nods, giving Tim a hopeful smile. "I freelance sometimes to make money on the side, but I think my dad's trying to get me to commit to journalism." He shrugs, looking uncomfortable at the thought. "I mean. It's nice and all, but. I don't think it's exactly my thing."

Tim can understand that, but. "...Should you be telling me all this?"

Conner's eyes widen as he realizes that, no, he probably shouldn't be telling Tim about his life. "Oh, man, can we just. Can we go back to the part where I introduced myself?" He thinks about it. "Or, uh. Maybe not so much."

Tim takes pity on him and holds his hand out. "I'm Tim Drake," he says. "Nice to meet you."

Conner gives him a look of pure gratitude as he takes hand and shakes it. "Conner Kent, _Daily Planet_. I was hoping you'd answer some questions I have? I'm working on an article, and no one in there seemed to be speaking English," Conner says, pointing back to the room the main event is taking place in. 

That gets a smile out of Tim. There are several highly regarded archeologists attending the event, some of whom Tim's worked with in the past, and he knows how they can get when someone gets them started on a topic. "I'm not really sure that I'll be any better, actually." 

"Yeah, well." Conner smiles. "The curator - Dick? - said you'd be a good person to go to for my article, so." He shrugs. "If you don't mind, that is."

Dick. Of course Dick has a hand in this, and not just because he's friends with Clark. He probably thinks Conner's article will do something to help the Drake name (it might). Conner's looking at Tim with a hopeful smile, and Dick put him up to this. Dick is one of the few people Tim actually trusts, and if he sent Conner...

Tim smiles and hopes he's not making a mistake. “What do you want to know?"


	3. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You, ah. You aren't going to read that out loud, are you?"

"You, ah. You aren't going to read that out loud, are you?"

Tim hears Conner, registers that someone's speaking to him, but. 

"Tim?"

Tim blinks, tears his gaze away from the tablets to see Conner watching him with what can only be called apprehension on his face. "...What?" Tim frowns when Kon darts a look down the tunnel leading back to the campsite where Bart is putting in a call to Cassie about the find. "Conner?"

"Just. Uh." Conner's face flushes red. "What if it's cursed?"

"Cursed."

Conner looks even more miserable, like he knows he's digging his own grave (ha ha... _dammit_ Dick) because he's a rational adult-type person, and shouldn't believe in things like ancient curses. (Except he should, because sometimes things like that _do_ exist. Tim's warned him about them before, but maybe he did too good a job of it.)

"You learned everything you know about archeology from _The Mummy_ , didn't you?" Tim asks, but he's smiling. It's hard not to with Conner sometimes.

"Hey! Those are great movies," Conner protests, although he fails to meet Tim's eyes. 

"They're not cursed," Tim says, gesturing at the tablets. And, because Conner doesn't look entirely convinced, "I promise I won't read what's written on them out loud, though, okay?" 

Conner scowls at him, clearly not amused, and flaps a hand at him. "I hope something tries to eat your face." He doesn't come right out and say mummy, but Tim can see it in his eyes.

Conner's been along on a few of Tim's digs in the past, sometimes he happened to be in the area (rare, but it does happen) or out of curiosity. This time, he's doing a piece for the _Planet_ to help draw interest for a new museum in Metropolis.

Tim grins. "Did I tell you about the guardian spirits for this place?" Because tormenting Conner is one of his favorite pastimes, and getting to do that with a legitimate reason is even better.

"Ow, wow," Conner says, voice flat as he takes out his mini recorder and clicks the record button. (He knows Tim loves doing this as much as he doesn't.) "Please do."


End file.
